


Tethered

by apple_pi (kozushou)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "accidentally summoned a demon" au, M/M, Making Out, Succubi & Incubi, also lemme know any tags u think i should add!, demon!shouyou, more tags to be added over time, struggling college student!kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9909263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozushou/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: Tethered(verb.) as to restrict one’s movement and limitsIn which Kenma somehow gets roped into a seance, and ends up with a literal demon following him around. It certainly helps that the demon is at least physically attractive, in a cute kind of way, but it doesn't change the fact that they’re tethered together by some invisible chain for the unseeable future





	1. Chapter 1

Kenma really isn’t at fault for any of this; he 100% blames Kuroo and his stupid fascination with everything paranormal. _Let's do a seance,_ Kuroo had said. _It’s for science,_ Kuroo had said. _It’ll be fun,_ Kuroo had said.

Kenma purses his lips as he looks at the writing on his wall, **_COFFEE WITH KUROO AT 3PM_** in a substance that looks a disturbing amount like dripping blood. The seance certainly _hadn't_ been fun, and Kenma had spent several hours sitting on a couch, blankly watching Bokuto and Kuroo move a planchette around a ouija board that they'd found at some random little thrift store, reading various articles online and trying to coax any sort of spiritual entity to make contact with them. They'd gone through an entire list of demons before ending with an incubus, which was when Akaashi had firmly told his boyfriends that enough was enough.

The whole situation had been Kuroo’s idea, and therefore Kuroo’s fault, and yet Kenma was the one that had ended up with a literal demon following him around everywhere. A demon with almost terrifyingly bright hair that resembles burning flames and flicks around its head in a similar fashion, eyes that are somehow darker than the endless expanse of space and brighter than an exploding star, and a smile with sharp teeth and shockingly cute dimples - if dimples can look cute on a being from hell. Kenma finds himself eyeing the demon whenever he sees it wandering around the apartment, almost intrigued by the way the fiery curls flutter around its head as though constantly being softly blown by some non-existent gust of wind. The demon is weird and irritating, but Kenma can't help the undercurrent of curiosity he feels whenever it's around.

Said demon appears to be currently hiding behind Kenma's bedroom door, peering in. It looks deceptively innocent with its chubby cheeks, smattering of freckles, and childish curls in its hair. He scowls at it, cruel words on the tip of his tongue and more than ready to be unleashed. Instead he ends up pointing at the wall and firmly saying, “No. Don’t do that ever again. Very bad.”

He feels almost like he's training a loud overexcited puppy. Kenma had always much preferred cats over dogs.

The demon shrinks back, eyes big and bright and sad. It had only been following him around for a week but they’d already discovered that it spoke some other foreign language that Kenma had never heard of, consisting of bright chirps and sounds like tinkling bells and an almost cat-like purring at times. They don't speak anything close to the same language, but he hopes that his tone at least conveys that he isn't happy with the reminder written in blood on the wall.

Something like guilt flickers low in his gut at the kicked puppy look, but he just gives it one final glare before securing the beanie on his head and grabbing his bag. He makes sure to firmly say “no.” one last time before closing the apartment door behind him.

A sigh immediately pulls itself from him as he slumps against the closed door.

He’d woken up late and the message definitely hadn't been on his bedroom wall when he’d stumbled out of bed, but it was there when he wandered back a few minutes later with a cup of (homemade, not-great-but-not-terrible) coffee in hand.

It couldn't speak Japanese but it could, apparently, understand how to write it, and had been leaving those sorts of reminders all over the house. Kenma had found “class today at 2” written in the steam on the bathroom mirror after a shower, several messages in that same substance like blood but of a different scent (it didn't quite have the familiar metallic tang), and had once discovered a dead rat at the foot of his bed the morning after he’d complained to Kuroo about there being one crawling around in the walls.

He adjusts the beanie on his head and grips the strap of his bag, taking a steadying breath before he heads off for class.

The demon had appeared in Kenma’s apartment after he’d gotten back from the stupid seance at Kuroo’s place. He’d opened his front door to see it standing in his living room, completely bare of any sort of clothing, and holding one of Kenma’s favourite pieces of art in its terrible demon hands.

A part of him had wanted to scream but then he’d remembered that it was 3am, and he’d been stuck around Kuroo and Bokuto for several hours (Akaashi was a lot easier to deal with than those two, and had joined Kenma in the vaguely judgemental participation of the seance) so he was more than likely just hallucinating. He'd gone to sleep easily, and woken up to the creature - still bare from head to toe - laying next to him. It had given him something like a smile when he woke up, but it also could have just as well been a threatening flash of its sharp teeth.

For the first two days, he’d refused to believe that it was real. It was much easier to believe that the demon was just some figment of his imagination - _maybe he needed his medication adjusted again?_ \- until Kuroo dropped in for a visit and had spent several minutes staring at it blankly, before whispering, “This is the best day of my life.”

Kenma hears a bird chirp somewhere outside the classroom and instinctively turns his head towards it, half expecting to see the demon perched on the sixth floor windowsill with its bright eyes and strange sounds. He grinds his teeth when he turns back to his professor.

 _At least,_ Kenma thinks to himself dryly, _it doesn't walk around naked anymore_. Some time into the fourth day he’d snapped, decidedly seeing too much flesh (flesh? Did demons have flesh? It surely looked human enough, but was it really skin, or was it just some other skin-lookalike?) and had ended up practically shoving it into an old tattered pair of jeans and a shirt. More than once he’d found it going through his closet and pulling on random pieces of clothing, turning to him in excitement as though to show off what it was wearing. Kenma ended up telling it off every time.

Perhaps it had been the best day of Kuroo’s life, but it had surely been the worst week of Kenma’s, and he highly doubts that it's going to get any better.


	2. Chapter 2

Kenma can already feel the itching. The time on his phone tells him that he’s only been gone an hour but it’s there; an itch in the tips of his fingers, filling him with - _something_. The need to move and touch and feel. He had noticed that it appeared whenever he was away from the demon for extended periods of time.

When Kenma first brought it up, Kuroo suggested that it was most likely a side-effect of the contract that Kenma had unwillingly entered into with the demon. Kenma just wanted out of that stupid contract.

His phone shows that it’s just before 3pm when class ends, and he sates some of that itch in his fingers by keeping them occupied with playing Love Live! on the way to their usual coffee shop.

The sky is overcast above him, grey clouds filling his sight as far as he can see, and he spares a second to thank the universe for the fact that it hasn’t started raining just yet. He hadn't even thought to bring an umbrella with him and _really_ doesn't feel like getting trapped in the rain with his phone in his hands and his PSP buried somewhere in his bag.

He ducks into a shortcut through a park. The sound of children - laughing, screaming, so full of joy - makes his shoulders almost unconsciously hunch forwards as though to shy away from them. It sheds several minutes off his trip to the coffee shop, Déjà Brew, but it doesn't stop him from wishing that there was literally any other shortcut that didn't involve large crowds of boisterous children.

The faded pair of jeans and light grey hoodie is his go-to outfit, simple and comfortable, but he feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are staring at and judging every inch of him as he hurries past. A part of him wants to tug the beanie further down on his head. And then a bit further. And further, till his face is completely covered and it’s one less thing he needs to worry about being judged on.

The familiar bell dings above the door when he walks in. Almost three years ago, he and Kuroo had accidentally stumbled across Déjà Brew while trying to get out of a sudden hailstorm. The attachment was instantaneous - Kenma to the coffee shop itself, and Kuroo to one of the baristas working there.

And speaking of Kuroo, he’s easily spotted, sitting at one of the booths in the back.

Judging by the dopey smile on his best friend’s face and the soft adoring look in his eyes, Kenma assumes that Kuroo is probably talking to one of his boyfriends. His suspicions are confirmed when he gets closer and Kuroo sighs dreamily, “I love Akaashi so much, Kenma.”

“I know.” He drops his bag onto the booth opposite Kuroo and slides in after it. “You tell me every day. Several times a day. And the same with Bokuto.”

Kuroo gives a pout as he slides his phone into his pocket. “You just don't know what it's like to be in love, Kenma. One day you’ll find a cute guy and then you’ll understand.”

“Right.” He intones flatly, finding that extremely hard to believe. It isn't that he doesn't _want_ to be in love; he just can't comprehend the concept of another person loving him, of all people, in return. Kuroo may be lucky enough to have two romantic interests in his life, but Kenma can't understand why anyone ever would want to be with _him_.

Akaashi Keiji was once nothing more than a (breathtakingly attractive) barista at that very coffee shop. These days, Kuroo proudly calls him “one half of the love of my life” with a bright smile and glowing cheeks. Kuroo had been dating Bokuto for a year at that point, and while Kenma didn't know the specifics, he _did_ know that they’d both approached Akaashi together to begin “courting” him.

The half hour passes quickly, with Kuroo sending Kenma links of sites he’d found to be potentially helpful with the whole accidentally-summoned-a-demon situation. Kuroo gets Kenma to list off how he's feeling (“hungry. You should buy me one of the apple pies”) and to rate the itch on a scale of one to ten (“about a six I guess?”) and he writes it all down in a notebook that he’d dedicated towards his “Demon & Kenma” research.

Kenma had insisted that surely his phone would be much easier than physically writing all of it down? But Kuroo had insisted right back that the notebook felt a lot more _authentic_ , and Kenma wasn’t going to argue any more than that.

He’s been gone less than two hours when he finally gets home, but it's the longest that he’s been away from the demon so far. It’s whining when he opens the door, trembling and laying face-down on Kenma’s couch. He instantly notices the way its usually active hair lays in a sad heap, and purses his lips when he sees it wearing his blue sweater. The demon had become frustratingly attached to that sweater, wearing it around the house whenever it could and finding a way to sneak it back whenever Kenma would take the sweater away.

Bright eyes immediately lift to meet Kenma’s gaze and a high bell-like sound passes from its lips, hair suddenly flicking around its head like usual instead of drooping sadly.

It makes little chirping noises as Kenma walks past it, and he disregards the louder chirp it gives right as he closes his bedroom door on it, as though offended by being ignored.

Thankfully, the reminder is gone from his bedroom wall when he walks in. The demon must have found a way to clean it up while he was gone.

Those shrill kicked-puppy noises pick up as Kenma toes off his shoes and drops his bag. Next go his beanie and socks and jeans and hoodie, till he’s left in just a plain shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. He crawls into bed with his phone and a pair of earphones, prepared to spend an unknown amount of time staring blankly at the ceiling.

Sure enough, Kenma finds himself doing just that. Oh Wonder plays through his earphones - he takes a moment to thank the universe for allowing both of the speakers to work at the same time - as his mind ticks through all of the day’s events.

The bloody wall, arriving to class a few minutes late and having to suffer through everyone turning to look at him (Anxiety™ makes sure that he hates himself just that little bit extra as he remembers that), fumbling with his money as he went to buy the apple pie before he left the coffee shop, almost missing his bus home and nearly being stuck in the pouring rain. He knows that, _really_ , not that much happened, and therefore he has no reason for the tears of frustration and embarrassment that sting his eyes.

He grits his teeth and fights back those stupid tears. The demon makes an extra loud sound, resembling the yowl of a cat, and Kenma has to press his palms into his eyes to stop the tears from falling. Everything feels so overwhelming and Kenma just - he wants it all to _stop_. He wants the demon to disappear and he wants class to stop being so hectic and he wants his hot water system to actually work so he can have a nice hot shower without it turning cold and he just wants to stop existing for a while.

His phone gives a buzz and he knows without checking that it’s Kuroo. Sniffing back the tears and swiping them from his eyes, he picks his phone up to check the message.

_Kurocat: kenma! just wondering but does the demon eat?_

_Kurocat: asking for a friend. the friend is you. im asking so i can help you_

Kenma rolls onto his side, typing out a simple “no”. Kuroo had been the one to set his own name in Kenma’s phone, and Kenma had long since given up on trying to change it.

Several minutes pass, and Kenma closes his eyes as Untitled by Sea Oleena plays. He peeks open one of his eyes when his phone buzzes again.

_Kurocat: interesting~_

_Kurocat: ill get back to u later, i think i might know what this demon is_

A part of Kenma wants to ask, but instead he rolls onto his back again to keep staring at the ceiling. Eventually he finds himself gazing all around the room.

Posters cover three of the four walls. Kuroo, with his frankly irritating height, had helped to reach the higher places that Kenma couldn't quite reach himself. He’d left the fourth wall blank so far, unsure of exactly what to cover it in. One wall is dedicated to movies, another to various video games, and the third to his favourite bands and artists.

The room itself is moderately sized, a twin sized bed pushed into the far corner. The ceiling is dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars (Kuro had refused to let Kenma half-ass it and had called over Oikawa, an astrology major, to help place the stickers as accurately as he could) that have started to slowly lose some of their glow, and Kenma makes a mental note to buy some more.

Several shelves line the walls, full of books and games and figurines and various old gaming consoles that he’d once used but didn't have the heart to give away.

Eventually a song comes on that makes his face twist into one of those expressions that coach used to call “unique” and he quickly changes it to one that he much prefers. His homescreen catches his eye before he can lock it again. It’s a picture from the latest Zelda game, aesthetic and breathtaking, and for the first time he feels almost lonely looking at it. Wishes that, like Kuroo, he had someone that he actively _wants_ to set as his homescreen. Someone whose laughter made his heart race and whose smile brought warmth to his cheeks and made him feel that sickening mushy feeling that Kuroo always talks about.

Kenma pushes that lonely feeling back as he rolls back onto his side again and shuffles under his blanket.

Somewhere between a Sea Oleena song and an In Love With A Ghost song, Kenma drifts off.

* * *

The sound of his phone buzzing beside his face shocks Kenma awake.

A yawn falls from his lips before he even opens his eyes. When he finally manages to pry them open, crusty and hazy with sleep, he can just barely make out the vague shapes of his room thanks to the soft glow from the stars on his ceiling.

When Kenma taps the home button of his phone, he squints against the sudden brightness to see the numbers _9:06pm_ glaring back at him. He _also_ sees the face of the demon lying beside him.

For a moment his breath hitches in shock and he almost flinches away at its proximity. The demon is asleep, or at least pretending to be, since Kenma still isn't sure if demons actually _need_ to sleep. Its eyelids are closed softly, and Kenma can see them twitching slightly in a way that resembles someone dreaming. Fiery hair spills across the pillow and for once, the flaming locks are completely still. A smattering of freckles across the bridge of its slightly upturned nose. Its lips - soft looking, Kenma absently notes - are parted, the tips of its slightly pointed front two teeth peeking out in an almost endearing way. And then Kenma remembers that this is an honest-to-god demon from hell, and nothing about it is endearing.

The light disappears when his phone locks itself again, the room cast back into darkness. Something in him is shouting to push the demon off the bed and make it stay on the couch like it had been doing for the past week. For whatever reason, he instead decides to leave it where it is, rolling over away from the creature. The last thing he wants is to wake up face-to-face with it again.

Kenma gives another muffled yawn and reaches out blindly to find his charger cord to plug in his phone. When his phone gives the familiar beep to signal charging, he drops it beside his head again.

There’s a niggling feeling, questioning just why he had allowed the demon to stay sleeping in his bed, but right now he’s way too tired to address that. He finally manages to fall asleep again to the sound of the demon’s quiet barely-there snores behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been done for a while but ive been kinda hesitant to post it onakdfn, but i know that some of my friends are rlly excited for this chapter through the small bits ive sent them so! i hope they enjoy this

By the time the demon shuffles into the kitchen, yawning and squinting against the bright morning light, Kenma is already midway through his bowl of cereal. The kitchen itself is relatively small, a little table in the centre, surrounded tightly by the counters and Kenma’s irritating fridge (it overheats constantly and struggles to keep his food cold).

The window over the kitchen sink has its curtains drawn right back, flooding the room with warmth and light. Kenma will leave almost all of the curtains in the apartment closed on most days. Today, however, every set of curtains is thrown open. Ever since he’d woken up that first morning with the demon in his life, he’d been itching for something of a change. He hoped that this would be enough to sate that. If nothing else, it already makes him feel more refreshed.

The demon shifts in his peripheral, and the two stare at each other for a long moment of appraisal.

It’s still wearing his favourite blue sweater, dangling over its hands and hanging to bare mid-thighs. For a moment, Kenma finds his gaze drawn to those thighs. Soft, surprisingly tan, a hint of fat that has Kenma swallowing down the urge to bite into them and leave marks that will sting.

The sweater, already slightly too big on Kenma, drapes off the demon’s slim shoulders. Constellations of freckles are scattered across its tanned skin.

For a brief moment, Kenma almost feels _attracted_ to the demon. It just looks so - _human_. Its ears are pointed (and very, very pierced. Kuroo had identified the piercings as helixes and industrials and forward helixes and several other words that Kenma can't remember) and eyes glow as bright as its vibrant, always-moving hair, but aside from that it looks the same as any other person that Kenma could pass on the street.

Soft dimpled cheeks and the crinkles that form around its eyes when it flashes that bright smile all come together to form one deceptively cute demon and Kenma finds himself suffering.

Kenma had woken up less than an hour ago, tangled up in his own earphones. It took several moments just to untangle himself, before grabbing his phone and stumbling out of bed in the shirt and boxer briefs that he’d fallen asleep in.

The demon starts moving again (Kenma's gaze definitely doesn't fall to its thighs again, so _soft_ ) as it slips into the seat opposite him, and makes a chirping, questioning noise. Kenma frowns.

“I have no idea what you're saying.”

The demon frowns too, eyebrows twisting into an expression of frustration. It makes another chirping noise, this time pointing towards Kenma’s half-finished bowl of cereal and then towards its own stomach.

Kenma narrows his eyes, ready to defend his cereal to the death, till he remembers what Kuroo had asked. _Does the demon eat?_

This has been the first time that the demon has showed any interest in anything food-related. Reluctantly, he slides the bowl over.

It stares at him blankly, turns its gaze to the bowl, and then repeats the action several more times.

Eventually it looks at him again, making an exasperated sound. It pushes the bowl back to him with a shake of its head. It points towards Kenma now, raising its eyebrows.

“I don't know what you want!” Kenma hisses. The demon gives a pout as it slumps down in the chair, making grumbling little chittering noises. Silence fills the kitchen again as Kenma resumes eating, picking up his phone to send Kuroo a message.

_Kenma: the demon refused to eat cereal_

_Kenma: i think it might want to eat me tho???_

_Kenma: ill keep u updated_

Kuroo is most likely getting ready for work, so Kenma places his phone on the table. The reply won't come for a while anyway.

When he looks back up, the demon is staring at him again. He challengingly raises an eyebrow.

The demon gives a little huff and hunches its shoulders (Kenma definitely doesn't look at how _his_ sweater dips down and bares some of the demon’s chest) with a pout. The air is tense between them, charged with words that neither can understand. Kenma bitterly curses the stupid language barrier. If he knew what the demon wanted, surely he would be able to get rid of it a lot faster.

For a moment, Kenma almost feels bad about the furrowed eyebrows and the distressed pout. Then he remembers that this is a Literal Demon.

The phone gives a buzz from its place on the table.

_Kurocat: when u say that it wants to eat u_

_Kurocat: what exactly do u mean???_

A smile tugs at his lips when the demon’s ears twitch at Kenma’s buzzing phone.

_Kenma: it keeps pointing at me and its stomach? and it refuses to eat people food so :/_

It takes a while for Kuroo’s reply this time. The _read_ symbol pops up instantly, and then says _Kurocat is typing…_ but the message doesn't come.

He ends up dropping his phone on the table again as he finishes off his cereal. The demon’s gaze is practically burning a hole through him.

Several minutes pass before Kenma heaves a sigh, pointing his spoon at the demon. “Seriously. What the fuck do you want.”

It looks offended by his tone, long pointed ears twitching down minutely. There's a few more minutes of silence between them. Kenma starts grinding his teeth. The demon continues to stare with those bright burning eyes.

It makes this curious little chirp as he stands up and walks to the sink with his empty bowl in hand. Rushing water fills the silence as he rinses the bowl, closing his eyes for a minute to relish in the warm sunlight pouring over his skin from the window over the sink. The sun is so warm and cozy that he’s filled with the sudden urge to lay down and take a nice long nap in it.

He stops to grab his phone as he walks back to his room, prepared to do exactly that. The demon gives another sound, high and with a slightly whiny, irritated edge. Kenma ignores it.

The last thing Kenma expects is to be pushed back against the counter before he even leaves the kitchen, gasping in shock as warm soft lips press against his own. Somehow he’d managed to keep his phone safe from the sudden motion and he drops it onto the counter.

The demon clings to his shirt tightly, almost desperately, its other hand slipping into Kenma’s hair and tugging. It kisses deep right off the bat, teasing at Kenma’s lower lip with little nips of its sharp teeth and exploring every inch of Kenma’s mouth that it can.

For a few moments, Kenma kisses back. Brushes their tongues together just to feel the demon shiver against him. Slips a hand under _his_ sweater to grip at the demon’s bare hip. Trails his other hand under the fabric and up its bare chest. Delights in the goosebumps that rise under his touch. The kiss is frantic and filthy, teeth and tongue and little noises continuously falling from the demon’s already bruise-kissed lips.

It makes this high pitched noise, light and airy and almost dazed, as Kenma tilts its head to mouth his way down its neck. Kenma isn't a virgin, and he's far from inexperienced, but this is different from anything he’s ever done before. Every inch of his skin feels like it’s burning in the best way, a sting that he finds himself craving in the same way that he craves air. Every filthy little sound that falls from the demon sets Kenma’s skin on fire all over again till he's left grazing his teeth over the soft flesh of the its shoulder just to hear it moan a broken version of something that sounds a lot like his name as it pulls him back up.

Seconds fall into minutes into who-knows-how-long. The demon seems to have a thing for Kenma’s lips, nipping and licking and sucking at them, making pleasured little noises every time a raspy moan escapes Kenma. Somewhere along the way, the kiss slows down to soft slides of their tongues and shivery little gasps.

Kenma freezes when he feels a certain hardness rocking into his hip. More horrifying, he definitely feels the tightness of his own pants.

With all the strength he can muster, he shoves the demon back. It stumbles slightly at the sudden movement. Their eyes meet, and Kenma sees flushed cheeks and hair flicking around its head more vibrantly than usual.

“What the _fuck_.” Kenma whispers. His fingers dig into the counter beside himself so hard that they ache. Something in him is screaming - to grab the demon again, keep drawing out those sounds, turn it bright and flushed and panting his name.

The demon smiles breathlessly and pushes a few stray messy locks of hair away from its own forehead. “That was great! It's been a while since anyone’s kissed me like that!”

Kenma’s jaw drops at the suddenly very Japanese speaking demon.

A knock sounds at the door.

“That's probably Kuroo.” The demon says after a moment with a tilt of its head.

Kenma continues to gawk as the knocking increases, till the door slams open and Kuroo comes stumbling in.

His best friend immediately darts right over to Kenma, turning him this way and that. Kuroo’s gaze suddenly drops to the problem in Kenma’s pants and his brows shoot right up. “ _Oh_ . Really, Kenma? I mean, I get it, but terrible timing! You weren't answering my messages and I thought it _ate_ you!”

Kenma’s still in too much shock over the current events to properly process Kuroo’s words.

An amused sound - a _laugh_ \- comes from across the small, now crowded room. Kuroo’s a large presence that makes his small kitchen suddenly seem tiny.

The demon’s smiling, all soft and sweet. “I’d never _eat_ him. I mean, not in the way you're thinking of.”

Kenma watches on in confusion as his best friend and the demon stare at each other for several silent moments. They seem to come to some sort of conclusion, as Kuroo’s shoulders release a bit of their tension and his posture becomes less protective and more relaxed.

Eventually, Kuroo turns to Kenma again. “I thought you said it couldn’t speak Japanese?”

“Oh! I couldn’t.” The demon pipes up before Kenma can. It lifts itself onto one of the benches and swings its legs. “I’ve never really seen the use in learning any human languages, since it pretty much just takes a kiss for me to be able to speak the language of whoever summoned me. I’ve been trying to kiss Kenma since I got here but I don’t think he even realised.”

“You’ve been _what_.”

“See? Didn't notice.”

Kuroo ends up shooing Kenma off to his own room with a pointed glance at his crotch that has his face burning. Any chance that there’d been of getting off had been ruined by Kuroo’s sudden appearance.

The shower has mercy on him for once and stays hot for the whole duration. Steam quickly fills the small bathroom, and he’s reminded of the demon’s written reminder on the mirror, which then reminds him of the reminder written on his wall. He distantly wonders how he’d ended up pressed to the kitchen counter, making out with the very being that had been the source of his recent frustrations.

Kenma eventually leaves the shower and slips into a pair of sweats and a simple white shirt; he plans on staying home all day so he really doesn't see the use in dressing for style rather than comfort. His wet hair drips against his neck in the most irritating way, and he takes several minutes to quickly towel dry it. It’s all poofy when he’s done, a vaguely tangled mess, so he rakes his fingers through it till it’s tame enough to tie back. His hair has fully grown back to its natural colour by now, hanging around his face in dark waves. While he doesn’t mind its current length, he makes sure that it doesn’t grow past his shoulders, and makes a mental note to cut his hair soon.

Kenma absently rubs his palms on the sweats, looking at himself in the mirror. He doesn't look terrible but he’s definitely seen better days. Especially compared to the demon, with its perfect skin and dazzling smile and bright eyes, he feels disgusting.

After everything he went through the day before, he’d ended up falling asleep without any of his (admittedly slack) skincare routine. There’s a new zit on his jaw that he scowls at and even after scrubbing his face in the shower, his skin still feels gross.

When he re-enters the kitchen, Kuroo and the demon are sitting across from each other in the same way that Kenma had been earlier. However, instead of the tense silence, they're both laughing. Kuroo’s doing that ugly, endearing cackle-laugh and the demon’s laughter sounds like sunshine and bells which really isn't fair.

Kuroo’s in his favourite shirt (the dark one with “are you kitten me?” in big bold letters) and a red flannel tied around his waist, skinny jeans with a horrifying amount of holes, and a pair of socks. He must have taken off his shoes while Kenma was gone. A pair of earphones dangle around his neck and Kenma can practically hear the music from where he stands.

Kuroo’s lately been into remixes of his favourite symphonies. By this point, Kenma has heard Wolfgang Gartner’s 5th Symphony more times than he can possibly count.

He bites his tongue to hold back any snarky comments about how well the two seem to be getting along, filling up the kettle to make the both of them a cup of tea.

Kuroo twists around in his chair to look at Kenma. “Hey, so remember how I sent you that message last night about what I thought the demon might be? Well, we were just talking and it turns out that I was right!”

“Actually, my name is Shouyou!” The little demon has to raise its voice slightly over the rushing tap water. It waits till Kenma’s placed the kettle back on the stand and turned it on before talking again, with a bright smile. Kenma kind of hates himself for the way his cheeks warm. “Hinata Shouyou, at your service, Kozume Kenma.”

Kenma stares back blankly. Several moments pass with nothing but the sound of the kettle starting to boil in the background. Eventually, Kuroo says, “Yeah, as I was saying, he's an incubus.”

“Is that meant to mean something to me?”

The demon - _Shouyou_ \- smiles and Kenma curses that smile and curses himself for liking it so much. “It means I’m, y’know, a sex demon!”

Kenma looks to Kuroo for confirmation and gets it in the form of a simple nod.

“Basically I need sexual acts to survive, I guess? It’s complicated. When you guys did that whole seance, you summoned me! But, this hasn't happened before?” Shouyou’s brows furrow and its - his? - lips twist into a frown. “When I get summoned, it’s by people who actually want me here. And part of the contract when I'm summoned is that I can't leave till we, y’know.”

Kenma notices that Kuroo’s pulled out his “Demon & Kenma” notebook and is eagerly scribbling away.

“So what you're saying,” Kenma leans back against the counter and ignores the flash of warm hands and soft lips and gasping breath that his mind provides. “Is that you won't leave till I have sex with you.”

“ _Can’t_ leave. I physically can’t leave you. You've probably noticed that you feel all, like, _gwah_ and strange when we’re away from each other! It's the same for me!” Shouyou puts extra emphasis on the first word, just to make sure that Kenma knows it isn't his choice.

The kettle’s loud shriek interrupts whatever Kenma was going to say. Kuroo slides his book over to Shouyou, asking “is this how your name is spelt?” and the demon gives an eager nod as he goes off babbling excitedly about something that Kenma can’t even keep track of. Altogether, the kitchen is filled with a cacophony of noise that makes his head ache.

The shrieking stops when he flips the switch off, and he thanks the universe for the small reprieve. However, Shouyou is still rambling loudly about who-knows-what.

Kenma quickly grabs two mugs from his cabinet and spoons in the necessary coffee and sugar (he’s always taken his drinks sweeter than Kuroo). His own mug is simple white with violet swirls, whereas Kuroo’s is a deep earthy green with a smiling cat wearing a Santa hat. The mug was something he’d received one Christmas as a joint gift from both of his boyfriends, and ended up leaving at Kenma’s apartment, as he spent so much time there anyways.

At some point, Kuroo had grabbed the milk from Kenma’s shitty, shitty fridge and placed it beside the mugs. The demon and Kuroo are talking about _volleyball_ , of all things, when Kenma brings the two cups to the small table. He’s never needed more than two chairs before, and for a moment he considers standing. Before he can choose, Shouyou slips out of the other chair and signals for Kenma to sit. Kuroo looks pleased as he quickly writes something down in his book.

Shouyou’s eyes are bright as he waits for Kenma to take his seat. “So? When are we gonna, y’know?”

“Never?”

The two stare at each other again. “What do you mean never?” Shouyou eventually asks. “We have to!”

Kenma screws up his nose in disdain. “I’m not sleeping with you. I don’t even know you.”

“Well! You didn’t have a problem with that before!” Shouyou huffs, scowling. The ends of his hair are flicking about almost irritably, in a way that reminds Kenma of vicious snakes. “You seemed pretty into it when I kissed you.”

Kuroo laughs, short and loud, as Kenma’s face burns.

Shouyou pulls himself onto the counter - again. Kenma makes a mental note to tell him to _stop doing that_ \- and crosses one leg over the other. “You humans are so strange.” Kenma feels slightly ashamed when he looks to Shouyou’s legs again, still completely bare under that sweater. He vaguely wonders what Shouyou would look like in a pair of thigh highs, clinging to the soft skin just below where the sweater ends. He didn't even know that thighs were a _thing_ for him, and yet here he is, unable to stop thinking about them.

“Are you sure there isn’t some other way?” Kuroo asks. He taps the end of his pen against the table, lips pursed.

Shouyou’s face twists in thought. “Not that I know of? I did say that this hasn't happened before. Why would you summon an incubus if you don't wanna fuck them, y’know?”

“I _didn't_ summon you! Kuroo did!” Kenma hisses. “Go have sex with him or his boyfriend! They were both the ones trying to contact you.”

He angrily sips at his coffee. Of course he’d noticed that Shouyou had a nice voice - a really nice voice. High and bright, similar to the chirpy bell sounds that he made before the kiss. He had a nice voice, but right now Kenma really just wants silence.

Shouyou pouts. “I can't, Kenma! My contract is with you!”

“So you're just going to stay here?” Kenma scowls at the eager tone in Kuroo’s voice. Trust him to try and get research on the demon out of Kenma's suffering.

Shouyou shrugs noncommittedly. “I guess. I can't exactly leave.”

“And what are you gonna do about the fact that you’re essentially starving because Kenma won’t sleep with you?”

“I'm not _starving_. It’s like? Sex is like a full meal, and then, y'know, doing anything by ourselves is a snack? And it takes longer than humans for us to get hungry.”

“Uh-huh….” Kuroo nods along. His eyes are wide as he eagerly jots down everything Shouyou is saying. Kenma continues angrily sipping away at his coffee. “And have you, y’know, done anything by yourself?”

For the first time, Shouyou looks almost embarrassed. His cheeks tint pink and his ears twitch nervously. “Yeah. Whenever Kenma goes out and I stay here, I kinda have to. I'm not sure exactly what it's like for you humans, but for us it’s like the  want for sex suddenly becomes this super overwhelming need that's like _geh_ and it's impossible to ignore.”

“Geh.” Kenma echoes, and then snaps his gaze to Shouyou when he realises what he’d said. “Wait. So when I came home yesterday, you were…? In _my_ _sweater_?”

Shouyou defensively lifts the neckline of the sweater to his face, huffing, “it smells nice! It's the one thing that smells totally like you.”

“Oh my god. Holy shit. Are you serious? _Holy shit_.” Kenma thinks back to Shouyou lying face down on the couch, making those soft little noises that sounded a lot like the noises Kenma had been drawing from him earlier.

“Sorry, Kenma!”

“ _Holy shit_.”


End file.
